


Ivory Embargo

by Pseudonaut



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Body Worship, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Non-Graphic Smut, Prompt Fic, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-09 21:54:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8914309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pseudonaut/pseuds/Pseudonaut
Summary: He was right where she wanted him. And perhaps she'd be willing to make him enjoy that just long enough with the precious time they had left together. The con artists and the suit. Together, by themselves. Right before the inevitable would occur.





	

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: Although there's no graphic smut here, this may be an acquired kink to some. Please tread lightly.
> 
> All I can really do to explain is: Rhys is a literal kiss-ass.
> 
> This idea was requested in a surprisingly long, and my first Tumblr prompt, months ago. Sorry it took so long. Consider this a Christmas Present, whoever sent that. 
> 
> And Merry Christmas to whoever's reading this. Unless you aren't reading this in late December 2016. Then just thanks for reading.

 

 

 

 

**Ivory Embargo **

* * *

 

 

 

 

The plans were set. And they better have been, whether the rag-tag group of wannabe Vault Hunters liked it or were ready even for it or not. Sands settled by the time contacts were made, not that really they liked the plan either. They didn't have to like it, no one involved did. But that monster wasn't going to appear on it's own. So, everyone involved put on fake smiles and faux-happily strung along like puppets being dragged along the sand by strings, twirling to the sound of a Vault almost literally crying out to be opened. Riches needing to be made, much for Loader Bot's pleasure. If he even had a concept of pleasure.

Gortys had a chance to be resurrected and so did the loot stuffing the Vault Hunter's pockets and cash flowing out their wallets. And this raw stimulant was surging to be released for one of them in particular. Placed in the heat soaked rubble of Helios station, planning for their first steps. And that smell of burnt electric and greed was still so thick in the air, filling the chess pieces in from their heist to start a heist like an empty Outrunner thirsty for petrol.

Fiona hadn't stopped glaring at Rhys since after their interrogation attempts. Not that piercing eyes were uncommon, it was just a more bizarre situation for the hustler. She had now found herself watching men and women marked in orange paint and presumably mentally scarred from their home crashing on their heads worship the ground Rhys walked on. It didn't matter that he 'liberated' them from a life of pencil pushing and airlock negotiations, not to Fiona. He was still a shallow Hyperion suit through and through to her. 

 

But then again, he always had been so incredibly _vain_.

 

Her hands warmed the rusted metal of the empty, oval window-frame of the interrogation room even more so as she leaned out and looked down on the man on the lower floor, figurative and literally. His eye focused on a piece of Drakefruit as wannabe servants marveled at him like Rhys really was their monarch. Fiona's wandering ivory eyes grew more bloodshot at her distaste for the sight of the man, sitting on a chair, with his legs crossed and feet leaning on a dirty old footstool the Children of Helios had brought into their base just for him.

Everything about him that disgusted her core, everything she bottled up after he abandoned her and Sasha was bubbling like lava in her mind. And the thought of him looking at Sasha the way the smug ex-Hyperion did scarcely helped the tension building in her head either. She hadn't seen anyone look at someone the way he did to her sister 

Maybe that was a problem for her more than Rhys. Fiona didn't think about it, she was too pissed off and needed an excuse to gloat or mock Rhys. Maybe he'd fuck up at some point and embarrass himself at some point. Well, he would definitely do that, but Fiona needed that to come soon and scratch this itch that covered her entire body.

A tattered suited Child of Helios shuffled across a floor of wires and dust and opened his mouth to speak as he offered Rhys food and drink to gorge on, until the business man stopped the disciple before a syllable could even escape his mouth.

"You'll speak when spoken to!" Rhys ordered, unable to tell himself if he was even half joking.

"Oh great liberator!" The male pacifist soldier and part-time accountant chanted. "Would you care for more fruit? Or perhaps a drink-"

The king let out a weary sigh. "What did I _just_ say?"

"Well... You said speak when spoken too. And you spoke, so I spo-"

"I mean, yeah, but..." Rhys started to rant in a quieter voice, "Like not when I speak, period, just when I ask you something, you know."

"N-No I really don't." The man said as he shook his head.

"Speak when spoken to!" Rhys shouted.

The accountant trembled under the liberators shadow. "I did!" 

"You did it again!"

"You asked me too!" 

 

 _Bingo_.

 

Fiona started clapping deliberately slow, deafening the room as she caught everyone's attention. Rhys looked embarrassed on his throne, Fiona looming over him instead of Rhys doing the same to that brainwashed idiot. It felt right for Fiona. It fit perfectly. It felt good. She leaned out the window now, her arms dangling down as a big grin spread across her cherry lips.

"Oh wow, truly amazing to watch yet another screw up." Fiona chuckled methodically. "You can't even rule your vassals right." She hummed, hoping to grind Rhys' already finned gears even more.

"No!" Rhys responded, standing up and pushing the accountant aside triumphantly. "These guys just can't follow simply instructions." He responded sternly, looking over to the now disappointed Children of Helios. He let out a sigh and rubbed his face, the metal plating of his robotic arm cooled his head. "Besides. I can and will be running a company. And what will you be doing, huh? While I keep ruling?" Rhys quipped with his hands now on his sides.

"Laughing at you." Fiona said, honestly and lighting fast as a rebuttal.

Looking slightly defeated, and even more fed up, Rhys waved his hand back, ordering his posse of fanatics to scurry away. And on a whim they did. He still felt pretty fucking cool as they did.

Her lip pursed as her grin turned into a smirk. "Hey, your majesty."

Rhys looked to her, his arms crossed and head tilted, hearing the fabric of his suit scratch against his ear was more pleasant than her barrage of witty remarks she belittled him with.

"I'm not complaining." Fiona purred. "I wouldn't have it any other way..." She winked mockingly at him.

The CEO hid his face by turning his head, grinding his teeth from side to side slightly while pondering how to phrase his next question, the sound of the harsh Pandoran desert decimating their doorstep in an attempt to take back the cursed moon-base that no longer orbited as some sort of revenge was the only sound he had as he did. Which was pleasant enough. "So... How do you do it?"

"Do what?" Fiona asked back, slowly regaining some normal posture rather than slouching over.

"Just..." Rhys moved to stand closer to the stairs leading up to her, still facing the woman. "Be so... cool."

"Cool?" Fiona sounded as amused as she did perplexed.

"Yeah. Just the way you're always so, like, calculated. Even when you're super pissed. I know it doesn't mean much, but compared to you I'm just some. Some asshole who only acts like he knows what he's talking about."

"So you're a politician?" Fiona asked, not taking him seriously. Not that Fiona didn't care, she just already knew why he always had his tongue tied. 'Rhys, you know it's not you that's your problem right? It's me.' is what the con artist would have said and meant it if she didn't smell an opportunity in front of her. Truth was, Fiona was a hot head, some people could make her angry in a second and other couldn't make her cry in a lifetime. But Rhys could make her angry one second and want to cry the next. Maybe he was long overdue some lessons. 

"It's not that hard. I just had a lot of discipline in my life." She lied, literally through her teeth so terribly trying not to smile wide. "Do you know what discipline is like?"

Rhys scoffed, "Yeah. Had my balls busted all the time back on Helios. I mean, back on here, before I, you know. Destroyed it." He hated how solemn he sounded, but strangely felt like no one in the world but her could even begin to comprehend the splintered fracture of emotions he carried on his back as a burden to bear.

Fiona looked down at him, her eyes settling on his expressions, the anger in her eyes leaving as she saw what weight he carried. "Yeah... We both got a lot of baggage."

Some plan she must have been concocting to open the Vault of The Traveler was fast asleep when compared to what she wanted now. He was so broken, after everything he told her. About Handsome Jack, Vaughn, Loader Bot and all the shit he went through without her by his side. The idea of remorse was making her feel sick. Vaughn was just like him. Well, before he went native. Rhys had so easily managed to keep Jack a secret from her and Sasha until it was convenient for him to peel away dodge after dodge, lie after lie.

And even after all of that, all she saw and him and he in her, he was just an asshole. A corporate shill in the messy making, wanting to be king of the castle. Maybe the only reason he got rid of Jack was so he didn't have to share a throne. His body may have changed, but in no way was he something better. Some stains can't be removed, no matter how fucking hard you scrub the floor. Fiona was ready, eager to show him how deep stains penetrate.

"-But for you, Rhys, finally down here on Pandora?"

Rhys looked her in the spiral of green eyes she always managed to mesmerized him with.

"You. _Belong_. Lower."

He looked confused. This wasn't like her usual assault of hurtful comments they both flung at each other. This was genuine, and it had put a hell of a lot into perspective. Maybe one sentence was enough to break him if he knew it was genuine.

Fiona's impatience had stung her like a bee, she was too... excited for what was she was about to do. Her heart raced a little faster as some confidence caused her to stand up straight and wince menacingly at him. "Come here, Rhys." She ordered in an angry tone.

Conditioned to Fiona, he obeyed, slowly making his way up the staircase, each creak of the old and worn iron pierced his ears, his head thudding. Rhys was confused, naturally, yet compelled. She was just so Fiona. Every breath she took was unique to her and her alone, every twitch, movement, quip and smile wrapped him in a blanket of ease and comfort compared to snide remarks he now knew weren't so snide at all. He felt like it was his fault. Only he could take it so personally and only her personally.

He could never truly do anything to annoy her. The thought alone torn his arteries and punctured his heart. And he was not prepared to turn around and sit back down now and pamper his own ego as he usually does. And he couldn't because she was in the room with him. Closer he stepped, the happier she looked, and that was incentive enough. The shit he does for people he cares about. Though right now, Rhys didn't feel like he deserved anything in return.

"Good." She smiled a little, proudly. "Come a little closer, Rhys."

Obeying, he stepped forward, running his metallic hand along the side of the flimsy interrogation table besides them as he did. Fiona ran her own hand through his hair, brushing the dark brown parts escaping the gel covering it behind his ear. She was smaller than him, but the expression on her face made him seem so small and insignificant to surroundings.

"F-Fiona-"

"-Ah, ah, ah!" Fiona teased, in a low voice, " _You'll_ speak when spoken to."

The man gulped audibly, causing her to chuckle slightly. She scanned him more, eyes moving to his legs, adorned in pinstripe, to still lips so softly silent. 

The hustler placed her hands on each of his shoulders, thumb gently stroking them. "I've seen some real characters in my life, Rhys. But watching someone I should be thanking be catered too by a bunch of desk jockey nut jobs. It makes my stomach wanna crawl out my throat. I'm not here to lecture you about what you did... I mean. It had to be done. You saved me, saved Sasha. Even if we did lose Gortys along the way..."

"I'm sorr-"

She glared at Rhys, breaking her rule so quickly. He really was another ex-Hyperion. "I know you are, Rhys. But I know that I shouldn't have to tell you this crap. Why can't you just not be some Hyperion stooge with a damn god complex and just be." Fiona's was avoiding getting too emotional, but she didn't have an end to her own sentence.

They both stood in a stunned silence for the longest seconds conceivable.

"You can -- You can speak."

As soon as Rhys opened his mouth nothing came out, just a sad gaze on the ground. "I want to change, I do. You have no idea what it's like."

"Maybe I want to." Fiona interrupted. "Maybe instead of looking for money in trash and some psycho's ribcage I want to know what it's like to be worshiped! Now you may have had to suck up and kiss asses to get to where you were but at least you knew you weren't sleeping in a broken mattress! Or how about knowing if you're food's gonna be hot?"

"I would worship your hat if you let me touch it." Rhys laughed behind a croaky voice. "Okay? I know that this planet hasn't been kind to you, just tell me what to do, Fiona. Just, tell me and I'll do it!"

Fiona stepped back slightly, taking in a deep breath before her commands began. "Get. On. Your. Knees."

He did, as quick as he could, not caring if dust stained his pants. She was properly looming above him now, his orange eye and the blue looking up from the shadow creaking into sight at the beautiful, hatted figure.

Folding her arms, she looked happy once more, it even made him smile. "How much ass you kissed to make your way up the corporate ladder, huh Rhys?"

Rhys looked more embarrassed as the weight of his situation towered and replaced the metaphorical luggage now tumbling off his back. "Which answer makes me sound less pathetic and most professional?.."

"Any of it literal?" She bent to him as she asked.

"Not even a little." Rhys' voice did crack properly this time, knowing exactly what was coming.

"Well." Fiona hummed with her hands planted firmly on her knees. "Wanna change that?"

He had a choice, that's what mattered. Even he knew should couldn't force him to do anything. There was still some care in those emerald eyes, looking eagerly at him. She was right though, Fiona always was, he came down to Pandora looking out for himself over others and ever after their travels, all his friends he helped, nothing actually changed. Rhys, looked to his hands, on his lap, fingers tapped against his legs nervously. He took a deep breath in through his nose and closed his eyes tight.

"Oh, God, yes." Rhys replied with a smirk, to both of their surprise.

Fiona stood up and turned her back to him, her hands on her hips and the grin growing back on her face with a bright shade of red. She felt giddy, excited like she wanted to scream. She still had it. And now Rhys had her, caught looking at her ass only inches from his face. He'd looked at it before, naturally.

Hard not too when they were constantly crawling from turret fire or climbing down ladders to escape Bandits. And when a woman he had feelings for wasn't looking. Kind of made him wish he had Vaughn's abs. And that made him wonder why he was thinking about Vaughn when Fiona's ass was in his face and she actually wanted him to look and touch now. 

His fingers, real and metal, as light and delicate as the air between them, were against her pants for some support. And just barley feeling her thighs underneath. Rhys began tracing up her curvature, methodically slow, his thumbs dragging across the worn materials and touching her ass after all this time.

"So... Are you actually going to kiss it now?" Fiona asked, impatient.

Rhys groaned, "Are you really not going to let me enjoy this? I mean, do you know how..." His voice went a little quieter, face going from flush to red. "How nice your ass is?.."

"Yes." The con artist replied as she adjusted her hat and looked down at the blushing man over her shoulder. "Yes I do."

The stooge turn sub didn't expect her not to gloat at the sight she wanted to see since he marveled at a statue of him, but she was right. Rhys wasn't ready to even consider passing up and opportunity like this. But slightly unsure what to do he took his time still, a swarm of butterflies ready to burst out his stomach if so much as a muscle even flinched.

But he needed this.

So he moved a little closer as Fiona's behind dented as his secretly desperate lips landed forceful against her perfectly sized left cheek.

So wanting to kiss past the con artist's charcoal pants that so purposefully blocked his access.

"I know what you're thinking..."

His tormentor sung so sweetly.

"And you're _not_ getting past." 

Rhys actually pouted, much to Fiona's pleasure, before planting a longer kiss on the through fabric of her rear in a misguided attempt to hide his face. He hated how he loved just how right this felt.

"Ugh. Rhys, don't make me call you cute. Because that's absolutely adorable..." Fiona laughed, her face finally looking brighter and warmer.

Her hand reached behind Rhys' head, painted fingernails running through his hair as she pushed his head in slightly to aid his efforts. She felt him place fast kisses lower down her ass as she did, Fiona feeling his lips past her pants, an emphasis to how hard he was pressed in by the seemingly overly eager woman.

Rhys' fingers now dug into her, kneading the muscles he was now practically attached to, his pampered fingernails digging into her various tattered stitching of her trousers. It was comforting, it was sexy, he just couldn't tell if she was just so warm or if he was just that embarrassed.

This buzzing feeling hadn't left his face yet, low and drawn out, like magnetism in action, his cheek now pressed against her behind to her approval. The man had never felt so close to someone and so dirty simultaneously, so much energy and space begging to be together, never to separate.

Rhys could spend his whole life on his knees and serve Fiona if it wasn't other poor bastards' job to do that for him. All this stress of preparing and planning when it could just be so much easier, so much more simple to just hide away from it all. But now he'd found that escape, and he hadn't felt more fulfilled in his life.

This is what a promotion should feel like, this is what all the sacrifices he made should have been. A slog through a depraved mixture of blood and sand in an attempt to find some respite. Some solitude to wait quietly until the next one.

"Already enjoying yourself, _hm_?" Fiona spoke softly in a stark comparison to how heavy he felt against her.

Rhys nodded in reply, shifting her pants as he did, a satisfying smile on his face he only half hid. He was happy that she could see it deep down. Because Rhys just knew it made her feel the same. "Fuck... It's just so..." The addict mumbled and he grabbed handfuls of her concealed flesh, loving the heaviness it granted his palms. "Perfect." Rhys swooned in his servitude.

Fiona chuckled dryly, almost powerfully from so below her. "Good." She said simply, drawing out the word and filling his eardrums with her enchanting voice. "Now go on. You aren't stopping yet."

He kissed the cheek he was clinging too before looking up at her majesty with his lower jaw dangling open.

"You may speak."

Her commands were like thorns to his sensitive senses. "When-When will I stop?.."

"In an ideal world, Rhys. You wont." 

For all he cared he was under Fiona's imperial rule. 

His eyelids went limp as he keep kissing all over her ass, to the sound of pathetic smacks from his lips and her fingers gliding from his scalp down to his neck. Every brown strand of hair passing like a tide along her rough but tender fingers like a drumbeat against the dull buzz filling that was his mind, and washing all his memories in a sweet wave of utter selflessness. In that moment Fiona knew she had him.

Hooked like a fish, just missing an actually hook piercing his cheek. She let out a satisfied moan in her mouth as her free hand rested on the table, her head bent back and even her eyes closed with the mental image of the Hyperion jackass that was finally in his place. Feeling his love in every bit of contact.

It wasn't devotion. Not yet anyway. But if this was what she could expect from him then she'd be silly to pass it up. 

Maybe they could do this, maybe Gortys could be saved, a Vault opened and all the riches she desired laid before her like Rhys was now. It felt good to be a queen. No wonder Rhys liked it. The only difference between them was a silver tongue and who was putting their money where their mouth was.

 

 _Bingo_.

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Criticism is always welcome, if you'd like to see more of this type of , whatever the fuck this was then leave a comment, maybe I can write more chapters. Hopefully not months from now considering my writing patterns. Just let me know there's still people here after not writing for logging on for half a year and hiding in drafts.
> 
>  -
> 
> Tumblr: http://ao3-pseudonaut.tumblr.com/


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